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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26830870">On the House</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HipHopAnonymous/pseuds/HipHopAnonymous'>HipHopAnonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Dubious Consent, Enemas, F/M, Fanart, Female-Presenting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Forced Orgasm, Humiliation, Male-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Medical Kink, Mild Lust Venom, Other, Overstimulation, Possessiveness, Prostitution, Pussy Spanking, Slut Shaming, Spanking, forced injection, rectal temperature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:33:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,805</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26830870</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HipHopAnonymous/pseuds/HipHopAnonymous</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In a shoddy Victorian brothel, Aziraphale, disguised as a prostitute, runs into Crowley, disguised as a medical doctor. The two struggle to work out their complex feelings, tension running high after their recent holy water fight.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>190</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Volume 1: Forbidden Fantasies</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>On the House</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My second fic for the <a href="https://twitter.com/Kinks4K">Kinks for Kindness Forbidden Fantasies Zine!</a></p><p>Enjoy these two glorious NSFW illustrations by two of my favorite artists!</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/8c4eDuOaQW_PmkZRbwOQPVwvdtjRgn0TE2Ki26_hPfkydvvUW7Mw-CCsPUCeygAuvXY2fZ4Zlbnugt_JEEf4GB17R3tO69lXNtXyIau-OglQCLYOD_sQiDRc_AnuYHUlWXvyCEet=w2400">Jasmine Tea‘s Art</a></p><p> </p><p>and</p><p> <a href="https://d2pqhom6oey9wx.cloudfront.net/img_resize/3797343985f81aff98757a.png">Aivelin’s Art</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Madam, please, you don’t understand! If you’ll just listen, I —”</p><p>The door slammed in Aziraphale’s face, the lock fastening with an angry clang. She pressed her forehead against the wood for a moment and sighed before turning to grimace at the poorly lit, grungy room. </p><p>The regular furniture and adornments had been shoved to the sides to make space for the physician’s equipment in the center. There was a wooden examination table rigged with two poles from which leather stirrups were fastened. Aziraphale’s heart sped at the thick leather straps hanging from the underside; plenty long enough to bind an uncooperative patient, she was sure. On the side table was a metal tray holding a variety of alarming instruments.</p><p>She fidgeted with the hem of her white shift. She hadn’t been given the opportunity to properly dress before being dragged into this room for an ‘obligatory examination.’ Goose-pimples rose on her bare arms as she shivered in the dank air.</p><p>A sudden rattling signaled that the lock was being unfastened, and she jumped, backing away from the door, fussing with her white-blond hair and wishing she were wearing more clothing.</p><p>The door swung open, and Aziraphale began to speak at once, “Good doctor, sir, I can assure you, that — oh!” she stopped short, relief flooding through her at once. “It’s you!”</p><p>Crowley stood there in a rather fetching black three-piece suit, cravat around his neck and bowler hat atop his well-oiled flaming red hair. One of two mutton chops concealed his serpent tattoo. He stared at Aziraphale, mouth hanging open in shock, but he quickly recovered, grinning broadly with a downright predatory gleam behind his small dark glasses.</p><p>“Well, well,” he drawled, leering at her ample breasts, barely concealed in her thin slip. “Never thought I’d find an angel in a <em> whorehouse</em>. Entertained any interesting clientele, have you?”</p><p>Aziraphale’s cheeks went bright red. “Of course not!” she spluttered, crossing her arms over her chest and scowling.</p><p>“It’s ironic, really,” he continued with a smirk. “Do they know they’ve got an <em> angel </em> in the <a id="return1" name="return1"></a>house?"<sup>[<a href="#note1">1</a>]</sup></p><p>Her face burned, but she turned her nose up. “I am only here for blessings! On assignment! Even the lowliest corners deserve some good fortune now and then, you know.” She puffed out her cheeks and huffed through her nose. “And what are <em> you </em> doing here, <em> demon</em>?”</p><p>“Examinations,” he answered, holding up the black medical bag in his hand. “The law requires all unfortunate women<em>,</em>” he waggled his eyebrows, “be checked for, uh ... French diseases.”</p><p>“I know that!” She sniffed, giving him a haughty glare. “But you’re no more a real doctor than I am a prostitute. What are you playing at?”</p><p>Crowley shrugged. “The usual. Temptations, fomenting discord, etcetera. If you would remove your shift, please.”</p><p>“Excuse me?” Aziraphale narrowed her eyes. “You can’t be serious, my dear.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m always serious, Angel. I would never skirt the law. Heaven forbid.” He grinned toothily as he tucked his sunglasses into his pocket before shrugging out of his jacket. He hung it along with his hat on the rack by the door, then rolled up his shirtsleeves, moving towards the examination table.</p><p>Aziraphale took a step back. “Crowley ... ” she tried to sound stern, but her voice quavered.</p><p>“I have plenty of techniques to manage unruly patients, dearest, so I suggest you undress and lie down on the table.” </p><p>She gaped at him. “N-no! I won’t! This really isn’t funny ...”</p><p>He snapped his fingers, and Aziraphale barely had time to squawk as her shift was miracled away and she found herself face down across the examination table dressed only in her underthings. The leather straps snaked across her back, knees, wrists, and ankles, binding her tightly in place. Though she squirmed furiously, they held firm.</p><p>“How dare you!” she hissed, eyes blazing bright turquoise, shooting daggers at Crowley’s lopsided grin.</p><p>He set his bag on the table and chuckled as he ran his fingers over the lace of her white corset. “What is <em> this</em>, angel? You really think an east-end brothel worker would be able to afford this fabric? How absurdly elaborate!” He clicked his tongue.</p><p>“Well, I do have <em> standards</em>! Get your filthy hands off!”</p><p>“Such soft bloomers,” he continued, ignoring her. “You won’t be needing them for the examination, of course.”</p><p>He snapped again and she yelped as her underpants vanished, exposing her plump pale buttocks perfectly framed by the fringe of her corset and the tops of her stockings. She strained and struggled even more fervently.</p><p>“You foul fiend! Disgusting lecher! Stop this at once, you damnable demon! Or else I’ll … I’ll …”</p><p>“Smite me?” Crowley’s smile was infuriating. He bent down to murmur against her ear, his hot breath making goosebumps rise on the back of her neck. “I’d be willing to bet you’re all out of <em> frivolous miracles</em>, aren’t you? Wearing those fancy underclothes in that well-fed corporation.” He gave one love-handle a gentle pinch. “You can’t have been holding back. Pity for you. It would be <em> so </em>embarrassing for an angel to be declared a diseased hooker and end up in some lock hospital with no means of escape. What would Gabriel say?”</p><p>Aziraphale’s jaw dropped. “You wouldn’t!”</p><p>His lips twitched into a smirk before his face fell into the role of very serious physician. “Your skin is so pale, dear. That’s certainly cause for concern. Let me see if it will pinken up …”</p><p>She yelped when the flat of his palm made stinging contact with her bare rump. He spanked her again and again. These were no gentle love-pats but punishing blows that quickly ignited her sensitive skin into a blazing inferno. Strapped down so tightly, all she could do was clench her buttocks against the stinging onslaught and yowl garbled nonsense amidst cries of “It hurts! It hurts!”</p><p>“It’s supposed to hurt, naughty girl,” Crowley said, not breaking his stride, warming her reddening bottom thoroughly while he scolded. “You know, some brothels cater to just this sort of treatment. Perhaps you should have been assigned to a place like that? Being so uncooperative and using such disrespectful language — directed at a doctor, no less. I believe all willful little strumpets like you just need a good spanking!”</p><p>“Nooo!” Aziraphale wailed as Crowley decorated her previously pale buttocks with a spattering of dark pink handprints. It wasn’t until the marks merged into a uniform shade of scarlet, her bottom completely ablaze, that he finally stopped. She lay there panting, face pink, and chubby red rump throbbing hot.</p><p>“That’s better! Your skin’s turned such a nice rosy color!” He practically cooed, running his palm over the hot, smarting skin of her round bottom-cheeks. “No need for you to waste your earnings on any silly <a id="return2" name="return2"></a>pink pills<sup>[<a href="#note2">2</a>]</sup> those other quack physicians might be peddling. A sound spanking always does the trick!”</p><p>Crowley patted her backside and then plucked a large glass thermometer from the metal tray, giving it a few good shakes. “I’m going to check your temperature now.” He pulled a little tin from his bag, twisting it open and scooping out a dollop of grease onto his fingers which he used to lubricate the end of the instrument.</p><p>“Why are you doing that?” Aziraphale demanded through her sniffles.</p><p>“Making this more comfortable for you, sweetheart.” </p><p>Aziraphale began wriggling anew and Crowley sighed. “I trust you can keep still and behave or else I <em> will </em> ask the Madam to fetch a rod.”</p><p>She shook her head, but stilled her struggling, gasping as he pulled one plump buttock to the side, stretching her wide and then prodding a well-greased finger against her wrinkled arsehole. She twitched when he pushed that finger <em> inside </em> the tight little pucker, thrusting through her whines until he was satisfied the channel was well lubricated. The slicked thermometer then slid in easily. Once it was secured, he left it there and gave the underside of her red bottom a gentle pat while her chubby cheeks squeezed the unwelcome object now lodged between them.</p><p>Crowley placed the tip of his finger on the end of the thermometer and pushed it gently in and out, spinning and wiggling it, making her buttocks clench and her anus flutter around the intrusive stimulation.</p><p>“Is all of that <em> really </em> necessary?” Aziraphale snarled through gritted teeth.</p><p>Crowley’s answer was to deliver several sharp spanks to the lower curve of her rump. “Which of us is the doctor and which is the whore, my girl?” He sighed, long-suffering and dramatic. “I can see you’re still determined to give me trouble. Perhaps it’s just too much to ask such a wanton, shameful woman to behave in a respectable manner. You leave me no choice, really.”</p><p>Leaving the thermometer lodged in her arsehole, he opened his bag and pulled out a syringe already filled with a sickly green substance. </p><p>“Let’s see if this will encourage you to be a little more compliant.”</p><p>He held the syringe up in the dim light and gave it a flick, sending a droplet of liquid flying from the sharp point of the long, thick needle. </p><p>Aziraphale’s eyes widened in realization, “Is that —?”</p><p>“My venom, yes,” Crowley confirmed.</p><p>Aziraphale began squirming again, the thermometer sticking from her anus waggling like a tiny tail. “No, no! You mustn’t!” For a moment, Aziraphale panicked, reaching instinctively into the ether for a miracle. Though just as the celestial power began to tingle across her skin, she stopped. Some baffling mix of pride, curiosity, embarrassment, and lust made her pull back and release her hold on it, giving into Crowley’s game with an uneasy yet eager thrum of her heart.</p><p>“Oh, but I must!” Crowley was saying. “Just look at how contrary you are, girl, you’re really forcing my hand. Now, be still …”</p><p>He placed a hand on her back and then drove the needle into the center of one rosy red buttock. The initial prick stung like a hornet but paled in comparison to when Crowley depressed the plunger, injecting her ample flesh with the warm liquid. The venom burned like Hellfire, and she squealed in agony as the unbearable heat shot through her.</p><p>Thankfully, it didn’t take long for the initial scorch to dissipate, leaving only a curious warmth behind slowly spreading over her body. She began to feel groggy, tension releasing as her muscles went slack.</p><p>“There now. Much better.” Crowley sounded miles away, but then his hand was warm on her backside and she felt the thermometer being pulled out of her bottom. “We might not even need to use these straps anymore. First, though, let’s see about that temperature.”</p><p>Aziraphale stared at Crowley, blinking slowly as her vision went in and out of focus. He shook his head and clicked his tongue while examining the thermometer. “You’re running a bit high, I’m afraid, and fever is often the first sign of disease.”</p><p>“Of coursh ish high,” Aziraphale slurred, her tongue heavy, feeling as though her thoughts were wading through mud. She couldn’t muster the energy to explain that he’d only just finished <em> spanking </em>her, after all — not to mention that she wasn’t even human!</p><p>“I’ll need to conduct a thorough examination regardless,” Crowley was saying.</p><p>Before she could respond, Aziraphale suddenly found herself on her back, knees bent and open wide with her feet in the stirrups. “Wha—?”</p><p>Crowley was binding her ankles to the metal poles, and her wrists were somehow already bound above her head. She gave them a weak tug.  “It’s just to be safe, dear. Can’t have you kicking or thrashing about while I examine you.”</p><p>He pulled what appeared to be a collection of tubes from his bag, and it took Aziraphale several moments to finally recognize them as a stethoscope. With the thing fitted around his neck and the ear tips in place, Crowley pressed the conical bell to Aziraphale’s chest to listen. He furrowed his brow and sighed with an exaggerated <em> hmmm </em> before grabbing the top of her corset and yanking it down. She made a high-pitched sound of dismay as her breasts popped free of the fabric with an absurd bounce.</p><p>Crowley ran the bell over the generous hills of her chest, the corners of his lips twitching as he grazed her pert pink nipples. He made a show of listening carefully to her heart while his fingers wandered; flicking, pinching, and groping. Aziraphale winced, arching her back at a particularly sharp twist to one nipple.</p><p>“Your heart rate is rather fast,” he said with a mock frown, which came as no surprise to her since she could feel it trying to pound out of her chest. “Let’s see how things are doing down below, shall we?”</p><p>Aziraphale instinctively brought her knees together, but Crowley pushed them apart, lightly scolding, “Ah, ah, ah! You’ll need to keep those legs open for me. I’d assume this position is a rather familiar one in your profession, yes?”</p><p>Her mind was still muddled, but his words made Aziraphale blush nonetheless, and she turned her head, tucking her face against the inside of her upper arm and whimpering as he spread and secured her knees.</p><p>“No need to be embarrassed, poppet. A lady would be provided linens for modesty during an examination, but,” he grinned, “We both know you’re no <em> lady </em>. Ladies don’t work in brothels, do they? Though I’ll admit this effort is quite exquisite work – for an angel, at least.”</p><p>Without warning, Crowley pressed a finger against Aziraphale’s clitoris. Her legs jerked and she wailed, biting her lip in an effort to abort the sound and maintain some level of composure. In her dazed state, she hadn’t realized how sensitive and swollen the little nub had become. Crowley showed no mercy, moving it in slow, firm circles until her hips rose off the table, the sensation both too much and not enough all at once.</p><p>“Did I mention my venom acts as a powerful aphrodisiac, as well?”</p><p>He took his finger away, and she practically sobbed at the loss. A fire had been lit between her legs, and it was unbearable how much she was aching there; hot, wet and throbbing, clit twitching, begging to be touched again. A clattering brought her out of her foggy anguish, and she opened blurry eyes to see Crowley had removed a duck-billed metal instrument from the tray. </p><p>“Speculum,” he explained. “I’m going to need to open you up for examination.”</p><p>She shook her head, though she knew by now that protest was futile.</p><p>“I don’t think I need to waste my lubricant for this, sweetling, your cunt looks quite slippery already.”</p><p>Though Aziraphale’s face burned, she knew he was right. She felt downright gushy between the legs, practically flooded with need. The cool metal slipped inside her with almost no resistance at all, and she writhed at the stimulation, mouth falling open with a wanton little moan.</p><p>“Goodness,” Crowley scolded, cranking the speculum open bit by bit, stretching her cunthole wider and wider. Despite her anguished whining, he did not stop until he was satisfied she had been sufficiently opened. He gazed at the spread of her labia, humming and prodding with his metal tools, running his finger around her stretched rim. The pressure from the speculum along with Crowley’s rapt attention proved so overwhelming that Aziraphale could only blush and make wet little gasping sounds at every touch, toes curling and feet twitching in the stirrups. </p><p>“This is such a pretty effort, my dear,” Crowley said with appreciation. “I hope you’re keeping it clean! I’d suggest regular vaginal irrigation with a strong vinegar douche. It’s what I prescribe to all filthy girls in your profession to keep fresh.”</p><p>Aziraphale harrumphed, but Crowley ignored it. “Perhaps I can fit you into my schedule for regular appointments so I can see to administering them.” </p><p>Without bothering to fully close the metal blades, Crowley worked the speculum out, twisting and wriggling it all the way as Aziraphale made high pitched yelps, legs quivering. He shushed her, gently rubbing the inside of one meaty thigh where her stocking had considerably rolled down. Once the speculum was free, it left her glistening, swollen labia loose and open, feeling so notably <em> empty </em> she might have wept.</p><p>“Good news, sweetheart. You appear to be free from venereal disease. Even so, I’d say you’re suffering from an acute bout of hysteria.” He lay his hand atop her cunt, giving it a little rub. “No need to worry, dear, a full pelvic massage should cure your ails.”</p><p>“Mmmffff,” Aziraphale pressed her lips together, trying to stifle her desperation.</p><p>“Relax, pet. Lucky for you, I’m an expert at this particular treatment,” he tapped the inside of her knee with his free hand, reminding her to keep her legs open. “I suspect you are a tea drinker, are you not?”</p><p>“I … I prefer hot c-cocoa, actually,” she replied petulantly.</p><p>“Oh my! Even more indulgent than I expected. All that sweetness is gumming up your humors.”</p><p>Crowley clicked his tongue and began to prod her stretched hole with two fingers while petting her clit with his thumb. She squeezed her eyes shut, panting as she thrashed her head from side to side.</p><p>“Worst case of hysteria I’ve ever seen,” he murmured. “What a shameless little slag! Just <em> look </em>how wet you are.”</p><p>He held up his fingers, showing her how shiny they were, coated in her slick. Then he plunged them inside again and began to thrust, easily adding a third finger she was already so stretched and slippery. The moist, obscenely sloppy sounds were mortifying, but Crowley pressed the heel of his hand against her clitoris at a steady rhythm, curling his fingers inside, and Aziraphale forgot her embarrassment. It was all too much to bear, speeding her rapidly towards climax, and she came with a throbbing gush and a throaty cry.</p><p>“Well! Looks like you’ve crafted a fully functional effort, my dear,” Crowley said with a pleased grin.</p><p>Aziraphale expected him to let up then, but instead he continued with the manipulation, hand and fingers relentless against her sensitive sex, and she wailed as she quickly came again.</p><p>“So noisy,” he chided, sounding a bit breathless himself. </p><p>Despite the scolding, she found it impossible to quiet the sounds he was wringing out of her.</p><p>“Tell me,” Crowley asked, “how many men have you entertained with this <em> fat sopping queynt</em>?” He punctuated his words with sharp, punishing thrusts of his fingers inside her overworked cunt. “How many have paid for the pleasure of sticking their cocks inside an angel? Two a night? Three?”</p><p>She whined and shook her head as he thumbed her tender clit. When she didn’t answer, he gave it a cruel flick, and she a gasped out, “None!”</p><p>“Really?” he raised his eyebrows. “Are you certain? There haven’t been <em> any </em>cocks inside you?”</p><p>“No! Never!”</p><p>“Never?” He withdrew his fingers and smacked her sharply on the cunt. “Lying little tramp!”</p><p>She arched her back and yelped. “Only y-yours!” she amended, cheeks flushed dark pink, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.</p><p>“You swear it?” he growled, spanking her pussy again.</p><p>“Crowley! Please!”</p><p>He flicked his wrist with each light yet stinging blow, striking her until her labia were puffy pink and her clit swollen. “Swear it!” he snarled, pupils narrowed into possessive little slits in his golden eyes.</p><p>“I swear! Only you! Always! Please, Crowley!” The tears ran down her cheeks as she moaned and writhed on the table, tugging at her bonds.</p><p>Crowley gave her inflamed clitoris a few more love taps until Aziraphale couldn’t help but climax again, hips thrusting up as she cried out.</p><p>“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard to admit was it?” He patted the inside of her thigh in praise. “You’re always so uptight, Angel, but you’re clearly enjoying this treatment. Just look how much pleasure can be had when you let yourself go. This is a sure sign of unnatural retention. The best remedy is a thorough clean-out.”</p><p>She blinked at him and furrowed her brow. “Wh-what?”</p><p>“An enema, of course!” He took out his little tin of lubricant and greased his fingers. Without preamble, he began prodding inside her arsehole, coating it with far more of the substance than he had used for the thermometer. “You’re so <em> tight </em> here. It’s clear you haven’t been letting clients bugger you at any rate.”</p><p>Aziraphale grunted and shook her head. “No, no, no! Don’t! Please! You can’t!”</p><p>“Oh nonsense,” Crowley chided. “Hush now. It’s nothing to fuss over. Many ladies partake in daily enemas, you know. It can be quite helpful for digestion, and we both know how much you enjoy indulging in rich foods. It’s no wonder you’re in such a nervous state.”</p><p>Crowley dug in his bag and pulled out an elaborately engraved wooden case. Unclasping the latch, he opened it and began to fix together the tubing and nozzle. With a snap of his fingers a large bowl of steaming water appeared on the table. Aziraphale had only a moment to stare with wide, horrified eyes before Crowley snapped again and she was on all fours, wrists and ankles bound to the four corners of the examination table.</p><p>“Noooo!” she cried and began thrashing in earnest while he lubricated the nozzle.</p><p>“You’ll want to stop wiggling or you may cause yourself mischief. This is a delicate procedure, darling.” He placed a firm, steadying hand on her hip and, though trembling, she stilled enough for him to slide the metal nozzle inside her anus. The tapered width popped past her sphincter which then closed tightly around it, lodging it perfectly in place. </p><p>Crowley filled the large bulb syringe from the bowl, lined up the tubes, and squeezed the hot water inside her. The bizarre, unpleasant sensation made her bowels twitch. Of course, the water stayed piping hot for far longer than was natural, allowing Crowley to refill the syringe and push the scorching water inside Aziraphale several more times.</p><p>“I can’t!” she finally sobbed, convinced she was beyond her limit, pressing her forehead down against the table. A sheen of cold sweat had broken out across her pale skin, body racked with tremors as she begged, “No more!”</p><p>“No more!?” Crowley asked with a stern frown. He smacked her bottom sharply, still pink and tender from earlier. It only took a quick little spanking to reignite the skin, eliciting little <em> ooh’s </em> and <em> ahh’s </em> from her while he scolded, “You’re always so difficult, so stubborn, so self-righteous! Such an obstinate little thing!” Her jiggling bottom cheeks darkened around the nozzle fixed between them while she shook her hips and squealed. “This enema is for your own good, foolish girl!”</p><p>When he finally relented, Crowley took a moment to rub her heaving back, shushing her until the blubbering subsided. “You must take it all, poppet.” While he spoke, he took the end of the stiff metal nozzle between his fingers and worked it in and out, fucking her fluttering arsehole with it. “It’s imperative we see to this nasty little plugged up hole. You’ll feel much better once we’ve cleared up all this anal retention.”</p><p>She might have protested more, but he filled the bulb again and began pushing the searing hot water into her. She could only whimper, limbs trembling as her insides cramped, beet red buttocks clenching desperately around the nozzle. He just kept filling and filling her, so much so she feared he would never stop and that she would burst. Her belly was aching when he finally set the bulb aside and slid the nozzle out, instructing her to hold the liquid inside.</p><p>Aziraphale immediately squeezed her buttocks tightly and made a high, panicked warble. Her plump thighs quivered, and she groaned in discomfort. </p><p>Crowley clicked his tongue. “I’m afraid you’re about to rip this lovely corset, darling.” </p><p>He unfastened one of the hooks along her back, and then another, taking painstaking time to remove the overly snug garment from her swollen middle. Once it was discarded, her stomach hung free and heavy beneath her shuddering body. Crowley ran a hand over the taut skin, indented with angry pink lines where the corset’s boning had dug into the stretched flesh. He gave her distended paunch a few gentle pushes, the hot liquid sloshing audibly as it swung beneath her. She moaned, sweat beading along her hairline. </p><p>“Just look how round you are, like one of your clients has gotten you in a family way. What would the Madam think?” He patted and massaged her belly with one hand while working two fingers in and out of her hot, drenched pussy. She squeezed those fingers tight inside her with every desperate clench of her bottom.</p><p>“You’re doing so well holding it all in, my dear,” Crowley praised, “but we both know that’s your specialty, don’t we? The real challenge will be expelling, I expect. Now where has that basin got to?” </p><p>Aziraphale’s arms and legs were beginning to tremble from the effort of holding herself up. Her bowels rumbled in complaint and she struggled desperately not to move a muscle lest she make a humiliating mess of herself while Crowley took his sweet, damned time miracling up a large metal basin. </p><p>He placed it on the floor before snapping Aziraphale free from her bonds and forcing her to squat over it. She kept her eyes shut and bit her bottom lip, face bright red, legs shaking from the exertion of holding this new position with her belly so full of hot, sloshing liquid. With great difficulty, she fought the waves of cramps, clenching her buttocks and biting her bottom lip to stifle her pained gasps. She let out a little squeak each time she was unable to stop a small squirt of hot water escaping her arsehole. The liquid felt scalding as it ran down the lower curve of her arse, irritating the red, well-spanked flesh; the terrible, delightful tingle of it making her hot cunt throb.</p><p>“Just let it go, Angel.”</p><p>She shook her head, sending the few mussed white locks that weren’t plastered to her sweaty forehead flying. “I can’t!”</p><p>“You can. Relax.”</p><p>“Oooh, I can’t!” she sobbed.</p><p>“It’s going to be all right, Angel. Everything is going to be all right. I love you. Let it all go.”</p><p>With a startled, hopeless cry, she did.</p>
<hr/><p>Crowley finished wiping Aziraphale clean and miracled the moist flannel away. She lay on her side in the lumpy bed that had been pushed into a corner of the room. Her eyes were closed, overwrought body softly shuddering. Crowley pulled a blanket over her, gently tucking it around her plump curves. He was unable to resist leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her clammy forehead. </p><p>“You aren’t hurt, are you?”</p><p>She took a deep breath and shook her head. He tucked an errant white curl behind her ear. “Good.”</p><p>She cleared her throat and grimaced. “I’m still not giving you that holy water. I’m sorry, Crowley, but I can’t! Please understand. I just can’t! I —”</p><p>“I know,” he slipped his hand beneath the covers and gave hers a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something else out. This wasn’t about that anyway.”</p><p>She opened her eyes and pulled a doubtful face.</p><p>“Really! I was just feeling a bit … <em> demonic</em>.” He shrugged. “You could have stopped me, frivolous miracle or not.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“You didn’t.” </p><p>She closed her eyes again and her cheeks colored. “I didn’t.” </p><p>She felt the bed shift and suddenly couldn’t bear for him to leave. “Crowley! Can you … I mean, would you … are you able to, um, stay? Just for a bit.”</p><p>There was a terrible moment of hesitation, but then he lay down on the bed, lithe body fitting perfectly against her back as he wrapped an arm around her soft tummy. “‘Course, Angel. As long as you’d like.”</p><p>Aziraphale sighed in relief, snuggling up in Crowley’s embrace. Before long, she noticed his arousal prodding at her backside. Her heart sped and she tensed at first, but then a calm acceptance washed over her. Though she’d never admit it out loud, Crowley’s ‘treatment’ had left her feeling miraculously less repressed. The anxious, conflicted feelings that always seemed to accompany coupling with the demon didn’t come. Instead she was rather relaxed, at peace even. And <em> eager </em>. It was no struggle at all to work up her nerve, and she found the words far more easily than she expected.</p><p>“Would you like to make love to me?”</p><p>Crowley huffed a breath against the back of her neck and her skin prickled in anticipation. He nipped at her ear before murmuring, “I thought you’d never ask, Angel. Tell me, though,” he chuckled, “can I afford your fee?”</p><p>She snorted, grinning. “For you, <em> Doctor</em>? Why, it’s on the house!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><a id="note1" name="note1"></a><sup>1</sup>A Victorian reference to the ideal domestic woman who cared for the house and children. Certainly not a prostitute. Taken from the narrative poem of the same name by Coventry Patmore.<sup>[<a href="#return1">return to text</a>]</sup></p><p><a id="note2" name="note2"></a><sup>2</sup>Various doctors provided “pink pills” to patients to improve pale complexion in the latter half of the 19th century, and eventually “Pink Pills for Pale People” was patented by a doctor in 1890. This was really more of an American phenomenon, but it’s quite possible Crowley had a hand in peddling them since they were, more or less, a ‘snake oil’ remedy.<sup>[<a href="#return2">return to text</a>]</sup></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://twitter.com/HipHopAnonymou9">Twitter</a></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://hiphopanonymousao3.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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